


Come Back Alive

by YoungSoon



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Bottom Shin Hoseok | Wonho, Implied Sexual Content, Knights - Freeform, Light Angst, M/M, Non-Graphic Smut, Romance, Two Shot, Wonkyun, knight wonho, prince changkyun, wonho x changkyun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-27 18:13:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8411509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoungSoon/pseuds/YoungSoon
Summary: A war is blooming on all sides of the earth - war so great no kingdom can stay aside. Even a prince, a heir to the throne will be thrown into battle lines as well as his loyal knight. Yet they will be not on the same battle field, they will  not fight side by side and meet their end together - they will be days apart, each fighting for their own life. This might be the last night they can hold each other, the last night in this lifetime, and it's not going to be wasted. Not a single second of it.





	1. ~ ⚔ ~

ChangKyun paces around the candle lit room anxiously, his bare feet cold against the stone flooring, but he couldn’t care less. His shadow is long and malicious on the cold walls, snaking between the rich, royal purple drapes and carmine red curtains. He as if purposely avoids the Persian rugs - gifts from the califat in the far South - and keeps away from the fireplace that warms up the room. He intentionally wants to be cold, to feel displeased and uncomfortable, just to later plunge head first into a safe embrace, breathe in a rough yet somehow gentle scent radiating from aristocratically white skin that had never felt the softness of finest fabrics for more than few hours.  _ He _ must come tonight.

ChangKyun takes a turn next to the door and heads to the narrow window in simple diamond shape pattern. The night is dark and dreary, the wind rustling the trees outside whistles over the smoke vents, making the slowly burning out fire to dance unsettlingly in the fireplace, the red vicious tongues losing their strength second by second. It was already way after midnight, the distant howling of hungry night animals signaling their time in this world. What if  _ he _ couldn’t come?

There’s a barely audible knock on the door and ChangKyun jumps. He takes a deep breath, hiding all his fears and concerns behind a stoic mask, barely holding back a gasp when a man clad in finest set of grey metal armour, cloak of deep green floating behind him graciously, walks in, his helmet under his arm. The royal coat of arms is painted in the center of the armor covering his chest, and for a second the red-eyed silver griffin on the moss green background looking at ChangKyun seems like the root of all evil. 

“Bolt the door,” he instructs shortly or else his voice would waver. He makes his way to the knight, who had just shut the heavy bolt on the door, and takes his helmet from him, tossing it aside. He doesn’t let the raven-haired man to say a single word, his big warm brown eyes wide in shock, as he presses him against the door and forces his lips on the knight’s. There is small whimper, rough leather gloves settling on ChangKyun’s waist over the thin fabric of his tunic, the coldness from the armour breezing through the thin fabric.

“Is this why you called me here tonight?” the man breathes out against ChangKyun’s lips and the latter needs to hold back a shiver. Tonight he had to be strong, ruthless and suitable the title of future king. He couldn’t let his concerns and fears to shine through, even though the man before him could read him like an open book.

“I can call you whenever I please,” ChangKyun retorts and steps away from the knight even though he has a physical need to kiss those sinfully full lips again. Not now. He had to held back.

“That is true, my prince, but knowing of tomorrow's crusade, you should get all the possible rest,” the man speaks softly, his voice layered with concern and it’s a grim reminder of the day that is already lurking somewhere behind the horizon, promising nothing more but pain and destruction.

“I will know what’s the best for me myself. You should know it by now,” ChangKyun brushes of the offered concern and sits down on the bed, covered with sheets of Egyptian cotton and heavy weaving of Persian blankets. “As well you should know, that there is only one way that relaxes me without a fail,” he continues and leans back on his elbows, smirk playing on his lips despite the concerned look on the knight’s face.

“Strip, my Hoseok,” he instructs and awaits a denial, he is waiting for resistance and the knight’s common sense to take over ChangKyun’s ridiculous requests on a night like this, yet there are none. The man before him obeys silently, his sword belt with atypically large weapon being the first one placed on the blood red rug. The cloak follows, draping gracefully on the floor, creating a nest for all armour pieces to lay in it one by one. 

From gloves to the decorated chest plate, from rerebraces to greaves, down to the heavy boots and armor shirt, until the knight is in front of him in nothing more but the simple rough linen shirt and woolen pants. It’s as if the amour has never left his body - his shoulders and chest still broad, the loose shirt not hiding his arms. 

ChangKyun wants to request for the knight to continue, but the latter does it with no reminder, the shirt leaving his sculpted body. Few scars throw shadows on the white skin along with muscles, like a slightly time damage artpiece of Athenian artists - carved in marble to feast one’s eyes on. But how many of those gorgeous artworks have been destroyed and smashed to pieces?

ChangKyun loses his stoic expression. The dark thoughts invade his mind and the same concerns he had after hearing the dividing of the army comes back to him and he swallows back a wave of panic. This could be the last time he sees his knight, his Hoseok.

The latter has stopped, the pants barely hanging on his hips too low to be considered appropriate. He can see, he can feel ChangKyun breaking apart from within and he boldly moves forward, kneeling between the prince’s legs, taking one of his hands in his and bringing it to his lips to press a kiss on the soft skin. “Tell me,” he whispers, his eyes locked with ChangKyun’s, “I’m here, so tell me,” he repeats and allows ChangKyun to move his hand to his cheek. Hoseok leans into the touch, placing another kiss in the base of ChangKyun’s palm as a shaky breath vibrates through the prince’s body.

“The crusade tomorrow…” ChangKyun begins, his eyes still locked with Hoseok’s, his mind and heart desperately grasping onto the presence of the man before him, savoring it, engraving it in his memory. “Today we discussed the division of our forces both for North and East. I will have to head to the North alongside my father, my cousin and the elite forces,” he runs his thumb over Hoseok’s cheek, his fingertips wishing to never forget the feeling of his skin. “However several generals from the elite forces are assigned to the East, to lead the attacks against the enemies there,” ChangKyun runs his other hand through the knight’s soft black mane, his heart sinking deeper into his stomach, the darkness and reality of war already around him. “Including you,” he finally gets to the main fear of his, main concern that’s bothering him for hours. 

Hoseok will be days away from him, in a far land fighting for ChangKyun’s father’s glory, for the glory of that cursed silver griffin. He won’t be by his side and if God will deem those lands to be his final resting place, ChangKyun will never see him again, never touch him again, never feel the safety, the warmth only Hoseok can give to him. It would be the same case if he himself would have to lay his head in the mud and dirt of a strange land. 

“I know,” comes a quiet whisper. “I was the one who requested it,” follows a shocking confession. Hoseok’s eyes are averted from ChangKyun’s and the latter’s hands fall lifelessly against his sides. 

“But… why?” he stammers out. His heart has stopped, his vision is getting blurry and he feels deceived, he feels betrayed - above all he suddenly feels lost and unwanted. Warm, rough hands settle on his cheeks and through blurry eyes he sees  _ the _ eyes that are the whole world to him even now, when he can’t understand his own feelings.

“For your own sake,” Hoseok begins to explain, “whether I would go North or East, I would be in front rows alongside with other elite generals, to lead others. Whether next to you or far away, I could be the first one to fall,” ChangKyun’s hands immediately fly up on top of Hoseok’s to keep them in place as if he could disappear right there and then. 

“What would you do, if you would see a sword pierce through my armour?” Hoseok asks and ChangKyun suddenly hears only buzzing, he doesn’t want to hear a question like that, he doesn’t want to think of such possibility and by instinct he shakes his head in denial. “Would you come to get me? To save me?” Hoseok adds another question and without even a second thought ChangKyun blurts out an answer.

“Yes,” he locks gazes with the knight, soft and sad smile appearing on the lovely features before him. The knight moves forward, gently pulling ChangKyun lower to kiss his lips softly, barely even touching them, before he pulls away again.

“That’s why I requested your father to re-assign me. A prince should never go for a fallen knight and risk his own life. Hyunwoo requested the same,” Hoseok explains and ChangKyun vividly remembers his cousin Minhyuk storming out of the meeting room when he realized Hyunwoo - his knight - was assigned for East. So both of them had done this on purpose.

“I should have talked to you, my prince, but I know you wouldn’t have agreed. This time I had to make a decision on my own and I am ready to take on any punishment you deem appropriate,” the raven hair stands up and ChangKyun unwillingly lets go of his hands. He understands both why Hoseok didn’t ask him about this and why he did request the change, but that hasn’t made the fear less prominent, the terrifying feeling of losing Hoseok less vivid in his mind.

“Thus tonight, as every night you have ever wished, my body, just like my heart, is yours,” Hoseok slips the last piece of garment off him and ChangKyun’s eyes no longer can focus on something one, fear still alive and loud at the back of his head, yet his whole world - something beyond kingdoms and wars, larger than seas and higher than the sky - was in front of him for maybe the last time. He couldn’t lose a single moment to dreadful reality.

 

The wind outside is howling louder than ever before, chasing large dark clouds around the starless sky. The fire in the fireplace has turned into barely sparkling coals, specks of red jumping around here and there. The wax from the candles has dripped over the candlesticks in large white tears. The whole room with the high ceilings, the narrow windows, the rich drapes and luxurious curtains - all drown in two voices moaning and groaning, growling and whimpering, panting out in ecstasy and whispering in utter affection. This might be their last night, their last chance to become one and neither of them holds back a single thing.

ChangKyun could swear Hoseok has never looked more beautiful. Sweat glistening on his ivory skin, pooling in curves of tensed muscles. His lips parted in gasps and moans, despite the usual restrains, ChangKyun’s name pouring from them as if that’s the only word he knows, the only word he can pronounce. His eyes are heavy lidded, darkened in ecstasy, yet so intense and mesmerising ChangKyun can’t look away even for a second.

The knight’s body arches into ChangKyun’s with each thrust, his hands firmly held above his head by ChangKyun’s hands, their fingers intertwined to the point it’s almost painful. He snaps his hips up, meeting ChangKyun’s downwards thrusts, both of them getting more and more lost in each other. Tomorrow didn’t exist. The war didn’t matter. No glory could be compared to this. At least for the time being.

ChangKyun had probably never fully realized how blessed he was to have someone so strong, so brave, so heroic, so gorgeous to be his in all possible ways. Hoseok’s mind, heart, soul and body - it all belonged to ChangKyun beyond the oath a knight gives to his king or his sire. It was something beyond what a lover gives to a lover. It was beyond everything - higher than stars and moon, deeper than the depths of the darkest sea. How unfortunate it was to understand it all on the verge of possible tragedy.

ChangKyun settles his hands on Hoseok’s hips as the man moves up and down his lap, the view lewd and erotic at the same time and ChangKyun engraves every second of it in his mind. The drenched bangs sticking to the knight’s forehead, his tongue resting on the very edge of his bottom lip as he tries to breathe evenly, his tensed arms that are desperately holding onto ChangKyun’s shoulders, his flexing stomach - white splattered all over it - and his hard manhood rubbing against it. The lewdest artwork ChangKyun didn’t want to forget, didn’t want to lose.

He grabs Hoseok by his wrist and pulls him down, their chest almost colliding. Instantly he captures Hoseok’s already kiss bruised lips with his, letting both of them to drown in yet another sensation. The dawn was already nearing behind the trees, coloring the horizon in golden amber tones, and they didn’t have much time, possibly those were the last moments together in their lifetime.

They drive each other to the very edge, their bodies shivering simultaneously as Hoseok collapses partly on ChangKyun, partly next to him and the latter wraps his arms around the knight the very second. Hoseok doesn’t make him wait, embracing the now crying prince and hiding him against his chest, his breathing now becoming uneven for a completely different reason.

“I don’t want to lose you,” ChangKyun whispers, swallowing back the tears that had finally broken out. “I can’t lose you,” he looks up to meet Hoseok’s watery eyes and he knows that the man holding him is putting on a brave face for ChangKyun’s sake. He has given ChangKyun his everything, he has become his everything, he was his knight and he believed he had to be strong for him, even though it might drown him from the inside.

“You won’t, my prince. I promise,” Hoseok responds quietly, few disobedient tears escaping his eyes as he leans closer to lock their lips in a kiss again, holding onto each second until the roosters greet the sun at the horizon, tearing the prince and his knight apart.

 

The bailey is filled with elite generals and the royalty, all dressed in their armours, swords by their sides, shields on their arms, spears strapped to the sides of their horses. Some of them have bows, some - crossbows, but all of them have restless hearts and fear gleaming in their eyes. Every single man now waiting to deploy to his own destination had something or someone to lose - glory, power, family or a lover. If only war would care about all this, yet it didn’t.

ChangKyun has his helmet in his lap, his black stallion letting out impatient puffs of air in the cold morning. The silver griffin was embroidered on the sides of his saddle, painted on his armour, sawn on his red cloak. It was everywhere, the menacing red eyes unsettling ChangKyun even more. He turns to Minhyuk for support, but the usually bright man has slumped down in his saddle, absent mindedly petting his horse. His eyes are red and it doesn’t look like has slept at all, switching out sleep for crying and ChangKyun couldn’t blame him. He was barely holding back himself.

A movement on his right catches his attention and he inhales deeply as the generals deploying to East enter the bailey. He hears Minhyuk gasping as Hyunwoo passes through the gate, his loyal battle axe strapped to his back, few spares trapped to the sides of his wild horse. Hoseok rides right after him and ChangKyun bites his cheek not to make a sound. He looks like a living art piece riding on a white mare, the visor of his helmet raised up, showing his features and his still slightly swollen lips. 

“Go on,” a voice right next to him makes ChangKyun to jump, just to see the kings - his father’s - figure next to him. “Go and say goodbye to him properly. A knight needs nothing more but strength given to him by his sire.” he speaks as if he knows something he shouldn’t, yet ChangKyun doesn’t question it and urges his horse to move through the small crowd.

“Hoseok,” he addresses his knight as soon as he is close enough. A smile spreads on Hoseok’s lips and for a second the war doesn’t matter anymore, the morning is no longer cold and all fear melts away. He was told to do it properly and how he wishes he could, but the generals around them…

He looks around to see his father leading the men outside, leaving only him, Hoseok, Minhyuk and Hyunwoo in the yard alone. In seconds Minhyuk is off his horse, lifted up on Hyunwoo’s and hidden against the broad male as if his life depended on it. The tanned man is whispering soft words to the without a doubt crying male and ChangKyun wishes he would have enough willpower to hug Hoseok and let go, but he knew the very second he would wrap his arms around him, he would never let go. 

“I have one thing to ask from you,” he speaks quietly, averting his eyes from the other two. “Come back alive. That’s all I ask. Just be alive when this madness is over,” he voices out his silent plead, a hand settling on the back of his neck. He allows himself to be pulled closer, lips pressing against his softly, not as long as he would wish, but long enough to feel reassured.

“As long as you will need me in this lifetime, I will come back alive. The moment you will need me in the next one - I will go and find you there, my prince,” Hoseok smiles again and ChangKyun can’t help but to smile in return.

“And I will wait. Either in this or the next one.” he replies and from the corner of his eye he can see that Minhyuk is back on his horse already, Hyunwoo slowly leaving the beiley. For one last time he locks eyes with Hoseok, his smile being the last thing engraved in his memory before the knight leaves.

“Just don’t make me wait too long,” ChangKyun whispers. Minhyuk is by his side in a second and they both join the North troops, seeing the East group already heading to their destination. This war could be the end, yet it also could be a beginning. 


	2. ~ ⚔ ⚔~

The crown was heavy on ChangKyun’s head, digging into his scalp as if it was made of thorns. The fur cape on his shoulders - a sign of his power of the North - uncomfortable and almost rank. The throne too large and too cold, yet he had to keep his face stiff and not show any of it a single bit. The war had thrown whole world upside down and his kingdom was sadly in the middle of all of it, both inducing fear in others and gaining enemies with it’s power, that now was in ChangKyun’s hands. A power no man should have alone.

His father fell in the North, the deceiving snow covered swamp lands being his resting place, his body never recovered like hundreds, no, thousands of others. All lost in the Great Northern War that lasted for over a year and a half. Since the North troops return and ChangKyun’s coronation exactly 7 months had passed. 7 months since he was officially a king and the crow on his head, the cape on his shoulders and royal seal on his chest pulled him down into despairful darkness.

The land with no king leading it had gone rouge - robbers and murders feasting on the poor common folks, landlords and earls maliciously using their power. It took months to fight the crime and corruption blooming in the king’s absence, the control over new Northern regions with still alive resistance forces not making it any easier. ChangKyun didn’t have enough experience, he didn’t have enough strength or help. The generals, as suspected, were not spared by the enemy and ChangKyun himself had barely escaped the battlefield alive, a large scar on his right shoulder and a smaller over his right cheek showing where the enemies sword almost chopped him in half.

Minhyuk was still by his side, limping from an arrow that went through his knee, his smile erased with dirt and blood of his fellow warriors and enemies alike. ChangKyun couldn’t even remember the last time he genuinely smiled in the past to years. He remembers pain - both physical and emotional, ripping him in half through fever while his wounds were healing and tears while the only thing left from his father was his broken sword in ChangKyun’s hands. The last time he smiled was more than two years ago in the bailey, when he saw Hoseok for the last time.

The war in the East was still in full strength, the final enemy city - a stronghold with high walls and unlimited supplies - was still holding on. All news took weeks to arrive and were short and vague - no names mentioned, just count of survivors. Too naively for a king of a growing nation ChangKyun hoped that the promise that was made was stronger than God’s plans. He was kept sane by the thought of Hoseok returning, not giving up until the war in the East was over. Not until he himself made his way to the sun burned deserts and saw the battlefields, not until he could hold Hoseok’s sword in his hands like he did with his father’s - not until that very moment would he lose hope.

 

The news of the last stronghold falling and survivors returning stirred the castle. Rumors spread of generals still being alive, others that only their armors were making their way back. The restlessness was heavy in the air and ChangKyun could feel Minhyuk’s anxious excitement growing by second. “I know he is alive. I know it,” he would murmur silently and ChangKyun wished he would have the same conviction.

 

“They have arrived,” comes an announcement and the royal hall stirs, ChangKyun himself restless in the throne. He hears heavy boots clanging against the floors, armour plates clinking against each other. He is on the edge of his seat, his hands holding onto the armrests of the throne so tightly his knuckles have turned white. He is holding breath and looking at the door, fearing to move. He regains his breath only when the first two men walk in. 

Hyunwoo has his left eye covered with an eye patch, the lacking arms pieces on his armour showing scars on his arms. The coat of arms on the armour has lost almost all of his color, the griffin practically gone from it. His cape is torn, the moss green looking more brown, but Shownu himself hasn’t lost a single bit of his strong presence. From the corner of his eyes ChangKyun sees Minhyuk almost literally shaking, tears pouring over his cheeks with no restrain, a smile finally back on his lips. And ChangKyun wishes he could allow himself to cry as freely as Minhyuk is doing it now as the man next to Shownu is no one else but Hoseok.

His top armour isn’t the one he left the castle with, the royal seal nowhere on it. It seems roughed up and and worn down, with scrapes and dents, but somehow it still looks admirable on Hoseok. His cape is gone as well, and from his equipment only his sword is in place. ChangKyun can’t tell if he has been injured or not and he desperately scans the knight, whose eyes are looking only at ChangKyun, making it near impossible to stay seated.

Both men kneel, their soldiers doing the same, showing respect to their ruler. “The East lands have subdued to your strength. The final city of Constantinople has fallen and now is under your wise control. You now are the ruler of North and East, my king,” Hoseok speaks, looking up to meet ChangKyun’s eyes as he says the last two words. ChangKyun’s heartstrings finally break and he has to, he simply has to touch his knight to know he is actually here.

He stands up and motions the men to stand up as well. For a second he locks his eyes with Minhyuk’s pleading ones and nods once. It’s all that Minhyuk needs as he staggers over the to shocked Hyunwoo as fast as he can, the larger man welcoming him into his embrace without hesitation, quietly asking of what has happened. Meanwhile ChangKyun holds back from running. He holds back from crying. He holds back because of his people watching. But he can’t keep it all in.

He walks to Hoseok and places his hand on the knights nape, resting their foreheads together, pushing back the urge to kiss him senseless right there and then. “Is this your interpretation of not making me wait for too long?” ChangKyun asks quietly, his voice almost cracking.

“Forgive me, my king,” comes the most simple response, those two gorgeously brown eyes looking straight in ChangKyun’s and nothing has ever been harder than holding back his arms, his lips, his whole self from embracing his knight. “I wish I could have returned sooner,” he ads and ChangKyun bites his lower lip, his vision getting blurry. Hoseok’s hand reassuringly squeezes his shoulder and the young king lets out a shaky breath. He couldn’t let his emotions to take control now, especially when they hadn’t moved from their place for too long.

“Let us feast!” he pulls away finally, “Let us celebrate the heroes that brought us victory and new lands in East,” he speaks loudly, the high ceiling on the room resonating his words. His eyes travel the cheering hall before returning to Hoseok’s face. Finally his heart could beat again, his lungs savor air and his eyes see the light - other half of his heart, his air, his sun had returned safely. 

 

The whole time of the rich feast ChangKyun barely can sit still. He silently admires how carelessly Minhyuk let’s all his pent up emotions out, being glued to Hyunwoo’s side and looking at the larger male eating as if it’s the most beautiful thing on earth, even though Hyunwoo’s table manners were quite barbaric. He could see the joy, the love, the relief playing in Minhyuk’s eyes, reflecting in his smile and yet ChangKyun still was trapped in social norms.

His eyes linger on Hoseok sitting next to him and he keeps himself calm for the longest time. The dented and almost completely ruined armour is off Hoseok’s body, the simple white shirt falling over his broad shoulders and chest perfectly. He looks like royalty. He has always looked above his ranks, his origins and that was what enchanted ChangKyun. That and many other things and neither of them helps him to remain calm. His patience finally snaps around the time when the feast is nearing midnight. He encourages his people to continue the celebration, while he himself leaves the table. He locks eyes with Hoseok for a short moment and prays that his soundless plead is understood.

Like two years ago, he paces around his room as it seems for hours. His cape is drawing him closer to the ground, the royal seal on his chest as if burning him, the crown digging into his skin, near ripping his head to pieces. He can’t wait no longer. His whole body is about to burst when there is a knock on the door and the man he waited and needed so desperately finally walks in.

ChangKyun inhales, a shiver running through his body. “Bolt the door,” he instructs in half whisper and barely drags his feet over the stone floor to the man at the door. He feels like he will collapse any second, his look probably giving it away as the concern on Hoseok’s face is evident. The knight meets him in the middle of the room and Changkyun barely can hear his own voice when he speaks.

“Take it off,” he whispers. “Take it all off me, please,” he pleads looking straight into Hoseok’s eyes. “Please. I can’t take it any longer,” Changkyun breathes out and Hoseok hesitates for a second before his fingers undo the heavy silver shoulder brooches of the cape and moves the fur to the side. He undoes the straps on the light armour ChangKyun is wearing, the metal hitting the floor with a loud noise, each piece hitting the stones. Lastly, he hesitates again before he takes the crown off ChangKyun’s head and the latter finally breathes in freely.

The young king let’s his body to fall forward, his forehead meeting Hoseok’s shoulder, an arm instantly around him. “Are you alright, my king?” the knight asks with concern as he places the crown on the cape so that his other hand could hold ChangKyun even closer.

The latter shakes his head, his arms finally wrapping around Hoseok’s middle, hiding as deep in his embrace as he possible can. He inhales the scent that even now seems so familiar, he lets his fingers to skim under the loose shirt and feel the skin, the warmth he called home. Changkyun no longer holds back the tears he had been swallowing since his knight, his Hoseok returned and lets them soak into the knight's shirt. “I was so afraid you wouldn’t return.” he whispers and the embrace around him tightens.

“I promised I would return if you would as well. I do apologize it took so long,” Hoseok speaks softly, his hand gently petting ChangKyun’s head. “I couldn’t be reckless if I wanted to keep the promise,” he adds and the young king nods, understanding it all. He is not upset, he is not angry, he is not throwing a tantrum fit because things didn’t happen as fast as he would have wanted. He is happy, he is blessed, but he is also tired and drained.

“It was so hard… it is so hard....” he speaks slowly and quietly, letting his worries to melt away in their shared body heat. “I am not ready to be a king. Even after being one for more than half a year, I am not ready,” he admits and finally looks up. Hoseok’s warm, hilt roughed hands cup his cheeks gently, his thumbs wiping the remains of tears away and Changkyun places his hands on top of the knights, keeping them in place. “I can’t do it alone,” he says with a hidden plead and finally, after this long wait, Hoseok’s lips tenderly presses against his in a long anticipated kiss. It’s short and sweet, slightly timid as all of the one’s the knight initiates but Changkyun couldn’t imagine anything more meaningful right now.

“You are not alone, my king,” Hoseok speaks against ChangKyun’s lips. “Even if the whole world crumbles, even if empires fall apart - I will be by your side,” he rests their foreheads together, their eyes looking directly into each other’s souls. “I am yours. I have always been yours with all I have and I will always be yours. Take my words, take my strength, take my body, take my heart, take my soul - it all belongs to you.” the knight speaks passionately and it feels like an eternity since the last moment ChangKyun had felt this alive.

“Then can I claim what’s mine once again tonight?” Changkyun asks and receives a nodd in return. Their lips meet again, their bodies falling into familiar rhythm, their hands traveling well known routes on each other’s skin, memorizing each new scar that has appeared. Changkyun feels a large, uneven line on Hoseok’s stomach - from his left side almost across his whole lower torso - so this is how close to losing him it had come. He doesn’t want to think about that now, when Hoseok is so close to him again, when their bodies melt together and Hoseok’s sinful lips moan out Changkyun’s name. 

He knows that the raven-hair has noticed the as impressive and as dangerous scar on his shoulder, his lips placing endless kisses on the healed skin. He knows Hoseok feels the same fear and relief to hold Changkyun now, knowing how their lives could have ended in seconds. Fate was on their side. They were meant to be right here and right now - in each other’s embrace, their voices bouncing around the cold walls and dancing with long shadows thrown by the flickering candles. 

Changkyun’s eyes are foggy, clouded with love and ecstasy. His ears are ringing, nothing more but Hoseok’s voice existing in the world. His body is burning, pleasure he had almost forgotten washing over him. Two glossy, chestnut brown eyes meet his - the same emotion engraved in them. The young king’s eyes focus on the lewd face with those glossy eyes, sweaty bangs stuck to the knight’s forehead, his full lips parted in moans and gaps - he looks as if he has never seen war. Hoseok was the one who looked like a prince - so beautiful even horrors of war didn’t dare to leave mark on those features. ChangKyun was silently glad it was his face that beared the scar the remainder of the past they couldn’t erase or forget. 

“Changkyun,” Hoseok speaks, his voice raspy. His hand rests on Changkyun’s right cheek, lovingly caressing the same scar Changkyun had thought about and only then the young king realizes he had stopped moving. He wants to apologize, but the hand from his cheek goes to his nape and pulls him down for a kiss. “I’m here. Don’t think about all that,” the knight says softly and Changkyun nods once, capturing the addicting lips once again.

They don’t say a single word more, if not half gasped each other’s names and half moaned “I love you”s. The night was still young, dawn no near the horizon, and the morning didn’t bring parting nor did it bring war. It was a new beginning - the most beautiful beginning Changkyun could have wished for, with his knight in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely love medieval AU's with Arthurian romance novel style knights but a sprinkle of realism and some historical facts thrown in here and there (as I am a huge history nerd). I really want to write more things like this - inspired by history. Greek myths, Roman Empire gladiator times (I have SUCH an idea for the last one. ouh boy.). Would you all be interested in reading them?
> 
> Find me on: [Twitter](https://twitter.com/BeanSensei)
> 
> **OTHER WONKYUN**  
>  **||** [WonKyun drabbles : The Last Of The Real Ones ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13358346) **||** [The Blue Flower ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8245657) **||** [Addiction Series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/581722) **||** [Leashes and Kisses](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7740334) **||** [Ribbons and Rings](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9198269) **||** [I'm Thankful for You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8347240) **||** [Silent Appreciation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7733332) **||** [Worth It](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9570284) **||** [Beneath The Surface](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9604883) **||** [A Little Less 16 Candles](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9810344) **||**


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